


Five Times Gibbs Helped Buffy

by MissE



Series: Wishlist 2011 [19]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, NCIS
Genre: Community: wishlist_fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-21
Updated: 2011-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-27 16:18:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissE/pseuds/MissE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>Prompt/Prompter:</b> I ran out of people wanting to prompt me, so this comes from the numerous people requesting more of ‘That’s My Girl.’</p><p><b>Warnings:</b> Refers to canon character deaths</p><p><b>Disclaimer:</b> Don’t own or claim rights to Buffy the Vampire Slayer or NCIS</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Far From Home

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt/Prompter:** I ran out of people wanting to prompt me, so this comes from the numerous people requesting more of ‘That’s My Girl.’
> 
>  **Warnings:** Refers to canon character deaths
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** Don’t own or claim rights to Buffy the Vampire Slayer or NCIS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Summer between Seasons Two and Three

“You need to tell your mom, Buffy,” Gibbs murmured into wheat-gold hair.

“No,” Buffy shook her head. “She said that if I walked out that door, I didn’t need to bother coming home.”

“Ah, Princess,” Gibbs sighed. “How much time did she have to figure it out?”

Buffy shrugged awkwardly. “I don’t know, not much?”

“Same night, wasn’t it?” Gibbs prompted.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Gibbs shifted the girl around so that they were facing each other. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret,” he decided. “No one under the age of twenty-five is supposed to know this, but you’re special. You know that, don’t you?” He waited until Buffy gave him a tolerant half-smile then continued. “We’re not perfect. I’m not perfect, and your mom’s not perfect. She’s probably out there searching for you, blaming herself, blaming maybe Giles, anyone but you. What your mom said, she said while she was mad at, well, everything. Mad as hell at the world that made you into a weapon, and took away her little girl that she wanted to protect more than anything.”

Buffy scowled at the man in front of her. “Give it up, Gibbs,” she ordered, “you’ve been talking to Mom, haven’t you?”

“On my honour as a Marine,” Gibbs swore, “I haven’t said anything to anyone about this.”

Buffy grimaced then threw herself onto that broad, comforting chest. “I miss her so much,” she whispered.

“So we’ll ring her today,” Gibbs nodded. “You’ll talk, and maybe she’ll let you stay a little longer. You need to talk, kiddo.”

“Yes, Gibbs,” Buffy nodded into his shoulder. Yes, Dad.


	2. Who Da Bomb?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Season Three, Post _The Zeppo_

Gibbs squatted down in front of the obviously home-made explosives. “Well, it’s not that bad,” he mused, “for a home-made bomb. The timer’s the first thing that will have to go, I think.”

“Because…?” Buffy prompted.

Gibbs pointed to the clock-face. “It’s nearly on zero.”

Buffy’s eyes grew wide as she looked at it. “Oh, god. That thing nearly went off. And we had Oz down here, and the Hellmouth was open, and, and…”

“It would have been really bad,” Gibbs finished succinctly. “So who did it?”

Buffy shook her head, still pale and shaken from the previous revelation. “Don’t know. The janitor came to Giles this morning about it. Because, lord knows, we’re all Secret Agent people around here!” she rolled her eyes.

Gibbs grinned. “Rule Four, princess.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Buffy muttered having regained much of her composure.

Gibbs frowned at the tentatively-deactivated bomb. “You need to find out who made this, and who deactivated it. And I need to call someone in to get rid of it quietly.”

Buffy chewed her lip. “Do you have to get someone in? Can’t you do it yourself?”

“I’m a sniper, not a demolitions expert,” Gibbs reasoned. “Though … this does look pretty simple,” he added, frowning. He began tracing wires. “No back-ups, no tricks, by the look of it.”

“I guess they weren’t expecting to be interrupted,” Buffy shrugged. “It’s not like there’s ever anyone at school at night,” she added, smirking.

Gibbs completed his inspection, and disconnected the battery, detonator and timer, before disconnecting everything else. Soon the explosive lay in scattered parts in the basement. “Okay. I’ll get rid of everything, but you really do need to figure out who did this, and who stopped it. Just because they stopped this bomb, doesn’t mean they won’t try when _they’re_ good and ready.”

Buffy chuckled. “And I can actually see Xander getting behind that; he doesn’t really like school.”

“Maybe he should think about construction when he graduates,” Gibbs suggested.

Buffy nodded. “I’ll suggest that.”

“Okay, princess,” Gibbs dusted his hands as he stood, “I’ll just pack this stuff away then we can go for coffee.”

Buffy grinned up at him, and turned to walk beside him out to his vehicle. “Sounds just great.”


	3. Papa Bear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early Season Four

Gibbs fitted his holster onto his belt even as he cradled the phone against his shoulder. “I’ll kill him.”

“Gibbs,” Buffy growled warningly. “Besides, Xander’s already offered.”

“Xander is a kid, and wouldn’t know one end of a gun from the other,” Gibbs growled back.

“That _kid_ has had my back for three years running, now,” Buffy shot back. “And maybe he isn’t Mr Scary Sniper Man, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t make Parker pay if he really needed to.”

“He hurt you,” Gibbs offered softly.

“Yeah, he did,” Buffy admitted. “But, like Will said, he’s just a big poopy-head. But I’ve got Willow, and Xander, and Giles,” she assured him, “and I’ve got _you_.”

“I could still deal with it,” Gibbs muttered. “Five hundred yards out, he’d drop like a fly, and no one would be the wiser.”

“I’d know,” Buffy reasoned. “And, odds are someone here would grow a brain, and put it through one of those database thingies, and then everyone would know.”

Gibbs snorted. She was right: people were stupid, right up until you needed them to be. “Just … do me a favour, okay? Find a _nice_ boy, okay?”

Buffy smirked. “Okay, Gibbs.”


	4. Do My Will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late Season Five, post _Forever_

“I’ve made a will,” Buffy announces quietly.

There is silence on the phone, and she wonders if he’s still there, but then there is the sound of harsh breathing, and she knows he’s heard.

“Princess.” More a moan than the beginning of a sentence; a petition, and urgent plea.

“Mom’s gone, and Da- … _he_ ’s nowhere in sight. This… It’s getting really bad, Gibbs, and I don’t know if I’ll make it out of this. I’m not even sure I can. I need to know…”

“Anything, Buffy: you know I’ll do anything you ask.”

“Promise me you’ll look after her,” Buffy whispers.

There’s another silence, and she knows that, as much as he hates, _abhors_ , what she’s saying, what she’s asking, he’ll do it.

“Anything,” and it’s a reverent promise and absolution in one.

She sighs, and sags against the wall. On the table is a piece of paper, her Last Will and Testament. She wants to go on about the words involved in that, and what she’s supposed to be testifying about, but she just doesn’t have the energy anymore. Mom’s dead, _he_ ’s gone, and has forgotten them, and the others are nearly as burnt out as she is. But Gibbs… His last gift to her gives her the strength to go on. She’s nearly there.


	5. The Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Season Six

“They didn’t tell you, did they?” Buffy asked. They were her first words to him.

“No,” Gibbs sighed heavily. “I called them when I didn’t hear from you, but they kept putting me off. It’s strange, but I kept hearing you in the background, but it didn’t really seem like you. What they hell went on?”

“I died,” Buffy admitted, “again.”

Gibbs shuddered then pushed all his horror and pain down into a small corner. “What happened?” he whispered hoarsely.

“I died,” Buffy repeated simply. “There was this whole thing with a hell-goddess, and Dawn’s blood and stuff, and the only way to stop hell on Earth, literally, was to … jump. Well, I could have pushed Dawn off so she died instead, but…”

Gibbs gasped. “God! Buffy, if I could have helped in any way –”

“You would have,” Buffy completed. “I know you, Gibbs; I know you better than any of the exes. When they brought me back, and I saw Dawn still there, being looked after by the others, I knew they hadn’t told you squat.”

“I’m not even sure I want to know, princess, but brought you back…?”

“Heaven,” Buffy whispered reverently.

There was a choked sob on the line. “Oh, sweetheart. I’ll come out. You need time, you need, hell, so much.”

“No,” Buffy returned firmly. “No, I don’t want you to come out here. I’m going to go to you, stay there for a few weeks; that’s okay, isn’t it?”

“You can _move_ here,” Gibbs assured her, “you and Dawn, both.”

Buffy nodded, even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “I’ll think about it.”

“Either way, you’re getting help,” Gibbs added. “I don’t know what the hell happened, Buffy, but you’ve got to be well past the line of PTSD. You’re getting help here, and you’ll get help there, too, if you go back.”

Buffy squeezed her eyes shut, but tears leaked out anyway. “Gibbs –”

“No arguments, sweetheart. You’re getting help. Hell, the lot of you should be in counselling,” he added bitterly. “Don’t know how we’re going to manage it, but I’m going to do my best to swing it. The United States Marines don’t work our people half as hard as you lot get worked, and we order counselling for people on the edge. You need it, princess; you know you do.”

Buffy cleared her throat. “I hate to ask…”

Gibbs smiled. “Don’t worry about it; I’ll book the tickets myself.”

“Thanks,” Buffy whispered. They spoke for a few minutes more then she hung up. She sagged to the floor, and let herself cry for a while before cleaning herself up. He was right, of course, and they _all_ needed help. But just the thought of being held by him again, of being in his house, and being his princess … all of a sudden life looked bearable again.


End file.
